Talking My Cane For a Walk

There is one part of living with MS that has bothered me and that is a sense of reliance. I feel like I rely upon others more than I’d like, I rely on assistive devices and I rely on medications. MS can really take away a sense of control.

One of those assistive devices upon which I rely is a sturdy cane. The part that bugs me is that I don’t always need my stick (as they call them here in Ireland) but I don’t leave the house without it for the knowledge that I will likely require its support at some point in my venture. That is where the reliance starts to bug me…

If I was headed out for a walk, for example, I’d take the cane and walk with it every step of the way even if the first few blocks (or steps!) were stable without firmly planting that wooden vade mecum beside me. I know this may sound like a petty complaint to someone who requires such assistance (or even more) on a constant basis and I hope you don’t feel me being disrespectful to that need. Remember, I have been relegated to a wheelchair and walker in my fight too.

Taking and using my cane everywhere seems to almost make me more reliant on the damned thing as I used it when I might not really need to; thusly I feel like I need it more. And then there are the impressions from people who might see me using it one day but not the next and so on. But I’ve come to notice a cultural anomaly here in West Kerry that has helped me get over myself.

It is not uncommon (at all) to see someone walking along the sidewalk or road (or sheep path for that matter) carrying a stick in their hand. It may not be a full on supportive cane, but some form of walking aid for those times when the ground changes or a brambly brush is encountered in the walkers pathway.

I’m sure, if you put your mind’s eye to work, you can imagine an old farmer in his boots and cloth cap walking along a road with his sheepdog at his heel and carrying a knobby walking stick in his hand. That’s what I’m talking about.

This little trick is what I’ve come to do at the beginnings (and often after a short rest, etc) of my walks. The trusty old cane is with me for support when I need it, I feel a bit less reliant upon it and – as I’ve always enjoyed a cloth cap and tweed jacket – I even fit into my new countryside.

I have decided to use this new method of support whenever I leave the house. Even when I’m back in America, I’ll not plant my stick and lean upon it on those strides which don’t require. Now, I know there will be times when my arrogance leaves me face down but I think I’m willing to take the risk for a bit.

Maybe it’s my way of taking back a bit of control, maybe I’m trying to fit in, maybe it’s just a mental game I play in order to think I’ve got ha better handle on MS than it has a hold on me.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Trevis Gleason

Trevis L. Gleason is a food journalist and published author, an award-winning chef and culinary instructor who has taught at institutions such as Cornell University, New England Culinary Institute and...read more